


Intentions

by FishEyenoMiko



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, First Time, Light Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 18:36:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FishEyenoMiko/pseuds/FishEyenoMiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has a very straightforward way of letting his intentions be known.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intentions

John Watson yawned and stretched--or would have, except his arms would barely move. Opening his eyes, he looked towards the head of his bed to find his wrists in soft rubber restraints attached to ropes that were tied around his bed posts. He moved his legs to find that they were also bound, no doubt in the same manner. Looking up, he found his flat mate Sherlock Holmes sitting between his spread legs. Sherlock was completely naked, and looking down at himself, John discovered that he was, too.

John looked back up at Sherlock, who was giving him a curious look, as if studying a particularly interesting crime scene. _There's an analogy I'd rather not think about at a time like this._ Sherlock eyes slowly slid down John's naked, helpless body, a smile spreading over his lips as he got to his groin. John let out a soft moan, feeling himself becoming aroused. Sherlock's smile widened.

It was pretty twisted, really. This whole scenario--being unwittingly stripped and tied up by his own flat mate, who clearly had sex on his mind--should horrify him. He should yell at Sherlock; tell him to untie him and get out. But his nearly six months of living with Sherlock had taught John that he was as twisted in his own way as Sherlock was. So he did none of those things. Instead, he smiled back at Sherlock and relaxed, arching slightly, offering himself to Sherlock, silently giving him consent to do as he pleased.

Sherlock reached down, his long, slender fingers wrapping around John's cock. Already slightly aroused, it hardened even more. Sherlock began to stroke him slowly, from base to tip, gently sliding his thumb across the slit. John moaned, biting his lower lip and fighting the urge to thrust up into Sherlock's hand. Then Sherlock slid down near the foot of the bed, and leaned down. Pale eyes locked on John's, Sherlock gave the head of John's cock a slow lick, then slid his lips down its length, taking nearly all of it into his mouth in one smooth motion. Sherlock moved slowly but expertly; he was clearly not new to this. His tongue slid along the underside of John's cock, his lips moving up and down on it. John let out a rather undignified whimper of desire as he felt himself getting close to orgasming. Sherlock's lips slid up until he only had the head of John's cock in his mouth, and he teased the slit gently with the tip of his tongue. John pursed his lips, holding in a cry as he came, shooting into Sherlock's hot, wet mouth. Sherlock swallowed, then gently held John's cock in one hand, licking off any remaining jizz. 

Sherlock placed a kiss on John's hip, then moved up, dipping his tongue into John's navel. Sherlock moved slowly up John's torso, licking and kissing his bare, sweaty, salty skin. He slid his tongue slowly around John's left nipple, then nibbled along his collarbone. Then Sherlock kissed John neck, and along his jaw line. John tilted his head down to try to meet Sherlock's lips with his own, but Sherlock pulled back, giving John a stern look. John lowered his eyes contritely. Sherlock rewarded John's silent apology with a slow lick of his ear. John made another embarrassing noise, and he heard Sherlock give a soft laugh. John shot him an annoyed glare. Sherlock just smirked as he reached over to John's night table.

Scooting down a little on the bed, Sherlock reached down, grabbing the back of John's thighs and tilting his pelvis, giving him better access to John's arse. John twisted his wrists around in the cuffs, gripping the ropes as he braced himself to be penetrated. Sherlock undid the cap on the lube and applied some to his fingers. He then reached down, sliding his long, thin index finger into John. He moved slowly, opening John carefully inch by inch. John gasped when Sherlock gently pressed against his prostate. Smiling, Sherlock pulled his finger nearly out of John's arse, then added a second one. But again he was gentle; even when he scissored his fingers, he did it very slowly, keeping his eyes on John and slowing, even stopping, when John twitched or gasped in a way that told Sherlock he was in pain. With this same care, Sherlock added a third finger, carefully stretching John a little more.

Finally, Sherlock pulled his fingers out of John's arse, wiping them on a flannel. He sat back on his heels, and John once again got a nice view of him; specifically his half-hard cock. Like the rest of him, it was pale, long, and thin. John was glad for this; he wasn't very experienced with anal sex, and it would certainly be easier to deal with someone who wasn't... overly-endowed. Sherlock opened the lube and squeezed out just a bit, enough to slick his hand. He then stroked himself briefly, working himself to a full erection. Then he opened the condom, and slid it over his cock. Once again opening the lube, Sherlock squeezed out a generous amount, covering his erection with it. Then, moving forward, he pushed into John. John squirmed, and bit his lip to keep from crying out, his hands tightening on the ropes. Sherlock waited until John had settled down, then thrust deep, gripping John's hips to hold him still. Again John braced himself and held back a cry. This time, however, with the pain came some pleasure, as Sherlock's cock brushed against his prostate. Sherlock carefully changed positions, so he was sitting on his haunches between John's legs, then began pumping back and forth inside him. John moved with him, closing his eyes and concentrating on the sensations, both good and bad: The sting of Sherlock inside him, the pleasure of his prostate being hit with each thrust, the rhythm of their bodies moving together, the tightness of the bonds around his wrists and ankles...

John let out a surprised gasp as Sherlock came inside him. Sherlock had given no indication he was going to; he let out barely a sigh, and had actually been pulling out when he came. John felt him pull the rest of the way out, and when he opened his eyes, Sherlock was stretching across him to dispose of the condom in the trash. Sherlock then sat back on his haunches again. Without any preliminaries, he took John's cock in his hand. It only took a few careful, skillful strokes to bring John to orgasm. Sherlock was also careful to hold him so that he came on his own abdomen, though the cum began to run off one side. John bit his lip to stop from giggling. With his free hand, Sherlock quickly grabbed a flannel--he'd apparently brought a few in with him--and caught the errant liquid, wiping up the rest as well. Then picking up the other flannels, Sherlock left the room.

John lay there for a few minutes, still tied to his bed. Part of him was honestly concerned that Sherlock might well leave him tied up all night. Fortunately, Sherlock returned before John became too anxious. He had a towel over his shoulder, and another in his hands. Sitting carefully on the edge of the bed next to John, he cleaned John's abdomen with the warm, wet cloth. He also cleaned carefully between John's legs. He then dried him off with the towel that he'd had over his shoulder. John was less worried when Sherlock left this time, and indeed, Sherlock came back quickly. He stood at the foot of John's bed for a second; John could tell he was trying to decide what to do next. After a moment, Sherlock walked up the head of the bed and undid the strap around John's left wrist. Leaning down, Sherlock gave the inside of John's wrist a soft kiss. Then, standing back up, Sherlock gave John a smirk, and left the room one last time.


End file.
